The varying shore o' th' world 5
Title: The varying shore o' th' world 5/?
Rating: PG 13
Pairing: Apollo/Hornblower
Summary: The joys of being in port. Written with calavarna who has juggled writing and exams like a trooper. No claim made on or profit made from these characters.
The varying shore o' th' world 5
Warne’s words echoed through Hornblower’s mind, an uncontrollable reaction to what could prove to be a major problem. He’s hardly likely to get up and fly away. The man had to know about Lee, the captain’s choice of words was far too specific to be just a figure of speech.
The captain sighed in annoyance. “I was under the impression that you know Mr Adama quite well. You did vouch for him did you not?”
“I…y-yes sir.” Flustered, Horatio stuttered haltingly in a frantic search for words.
“Then you would undoubtedly be aware of the circumstances surrounding your friend’s arrival in Portsmouth?” A knowing look accompanied by a vaguely probing tone caused Hornblower to draw an abrupt breath.
Warne knew. There was no other explanation. The captain’s curiosity as to Horatio’s knowledge of Lee’s origin was an immediate concern in light of this revelation. Whatever Adama had told Warne; the truth, a lie, something in between, he had raised the captain’s suspicions. Warne wouldn’t have felt the need to delve so deep, otherwise.
“I believe Mr Adama relied on the generosity of a private vessel in reaching Portsmouth, sir.” His bland tone betrayed none of the unease he was feeling at the interrogation. He comforted himself with the fact that he hadn’t told a lie, simply skimmed over the truth.
Hambledon’s captain eyed the lieutenant with something akin to pity, as though he knew a profoundly significant piece of information which had been withheld from Horatio and would sting if revealed. “Well then, Mr Hornblower, I thank you for your honesty. Perhaps you would like to take your shore leave now? Plymouth holds many delights for a young man such as yourself.”
The sympathy had not left Warne’s eyes, and Horatio found himself bristling in response to the unwanted compassion. He would not accept a gift out of nothing more than a misplaced sense of charity. “Thank you sir, but I feel that I could be of more use if I were to remain aboard. With the master and Mr Adama overseeing Guichet, the crew will be lacking an authority figure. It might be best if I remained here for the time being. For the good of the ship.”
He'd said the magic words. Warne had nodded at the phrase figure of authority, agreeing with Hornblower’s seemingly selfless sentiment. “You are to be commended for your diligence. I shan’t forget your actions.” He leaned back in his chair, viewing his lieutenant with new found respect. Horatio wondered idly whether Lee would mind his usurpation of their captain’s regard. “Please signal to Mr Adama and request his presence.”
With a salute and bow of his head, Horatio left the cabin, pleased with the outcome of the exchange. For possibly the first time in his life, he had triumphed in a battle of words. He had manoeuvred his way around Warne’s challenges and emerged victorious. Such a feat was uncommon, especially when one had kept the company of Archie Kennedy.
Adama emerged from Warne's cabin pretty swiftly after he'd entered - it had been a meeting he'd been dreading but the reality turned out to be less traumatic than he'd imagined. The captain had merely ensured that his officer knew what was required, confirmed that he was not eligible for leave until it had all been undertaken and informed him that Mr Hornblower had sacrificed his own liberty to keep an eye on Hambledon. Lee suspected that there was more to Hornblower's apparent altruism than that, but held his tongue.
"Mr Adama!" Horatio's voice rang across the deck, "how's the prize doing?" It was not what he wanted to ask, of course, but none of the pertinent questions were suitable for the public nature of the encounter. He drew his friend to the weather rail.
"She's fundamentally fine, just not been looked after these last few weeks I'd say." They were at last close enough to speak with a degree of freedom. "Like me before we met." Lee smiled and the affection he felt shone through in his eyes.
Hornblower stared down at the water, took a huge breath, as if steeling himself. "How much does he know about that?"
"About us? Nothing as far as I'm concerned."
"No, I don't mean that. What does he know about you - your life?"
It was Adama's turn to sigh, a great shudder that seemed to rack him. "Everything; I had to tell him, Horatio. No other choice."
"And did he believe you?"
"No idea. He doesn't entirely trust me - I'm pretty sure about that. Still if I get this ship turned round that might change." He eyed Guichet with a degree of fondness.
"You want to stay, don't you?" It was as if Horatio realised this astounding fact for the first time; Lee had found a life he could lead - out of time and space with his own world - that would keep him motivated and content until he either found his way home or resigned himself to spending the rest of his existence here.
“I’m getting used to this life, I guess I wouldn’t mind if I had to stay. That’s not to say I wouldn’t return to Galactica if given the chance; as great as Earth is” - and by Earth he meant Horatio - “it isn’t my home. I’d like to see my friends again, maybe apologise to someone.” If he was alive.
Horatio opened his mouth to ask what Lee had done to warrant making an apology, despite the intrusiveness of the question, but paused at the look of sudden shock on Adama’s face. He had paled, going from tanned to an almost translucent white in mere seconds, and was clutching at the weather rail.
”And if it was me down there instead?”
“If it were you we’d never leave.”
A disorienting chill settled over Lee as he remembered his father’s words. If Galactica had survived the Cylon attack, and he prayed to the Gods that it had, they would be searching for him. He may have doubted Commander Adama’s sincerity at the time, but in hindsight he could tell that his father had been telling the truth. His ship could be out there, risking the lives of every single person on board, in a futile search which would result in nothing but tears. They wouldn’t find him - he doubted even Doctor Baltar could comprehend the freak accident that had thrown the CAG through time and space.
“Lee?” Horatio had brought his hand up to steady Adama when it had looked as if he was about to collapse and he was yet to lower it. Fingers hovered over Lee’s shoulder, hesitant to make contact. “What’s wrong?”
Adama managed a small smile as he shook the troubling thoughts away. “Nothing. I was just thinking about Galactica.” He recognised that thinking was all he could do - he could not replicate whatever event had propelled him and his ship across the galaxy and through the years, nor had he any means to get word to his father. Lee had heard plenty of odd sayings in his time on this planet, one of which - what cannot be cured must be endured - seemed like the apotheosis of wisdom now.
"Will you join me for some supper once you've attended to all that needs doing today?" Horatio knew that visiting from ship to ship was perfectly acceptable and that they could ensure some time alone - especially if Clarke could be one of the men given leave in the first batch.
Lee managed a small grin this time - he genuinely enjoyed his time with Horatio, as long as the man wasn't trying to best him. "I'll bring a bottle - got a few hidden from our Master and Commander." Saluting neatly, he turned and made his way back to the overseeing of removal of rust and the paying of seams.
The advance of pay that all the crew had received had allowed Hornblower to send ashore for some little morsels to eke out the plentiful but boring salt beef and duff. Good cheese and fresh bread made the meal seem like a feast and brought back memories of the breakfast they had shared back in Mrs Mason's tiny attic room, in what seemed a lifetime ago.
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather be ashore? I could keep an eye on both ships." Adama was enjoying the taste of fresh food again, savouring every little bite of the sharp cheddar.
"And what would I find to do in Plymouth that could possibly be any better than what I can find here?" Hornblower tentatively reached his hand across the table, grazed his fingers along Lee's knuckles.
Pilot reflexes allowed Adama to seize the trailing hand which lurked just within reach; a strong grip keeping the suddenly tense digits in place as they attempted to draw away. Bringing the fingers up to his lips, Lee placed a gentle kiss on each tip, moving down to the palm and back again until Horatio withdrew his hand and pulled Adama closer.
“You’ve got a point.” Lee murmured against the taller man’s neck between tracing his tongue along the curve of Hornblower’s throat and gently nipping at the smooth skin with his teeth and causing the lieutenant to gasp softly. He broke away for a moment, breathing heavily. “I don’t know whether I should feel honoured or used.”
Horatio chuckled against the lips that met his in a fierce display of excitement. “Maybe a little of both?” He drew Adama tight against him, chest to chest, as he gazed down into blue eyes which burned with an unknown fire. “Which would you prefer?”
An affectionate smile and gentle shove was Lee’s answer, preferring to take advantage of the suddenly unbalanced Hornblower in the only way he could think of. Like with their duties; he’d be damned if he let Horatio have everything his own way, even if the man did seem eminently suited to command both on the quarterdeck and in the bedroom. He was determined to wipe the teasing look off Hornblower’s face; as nice as it was to see the lieutenant in good humour, Adama had seen Cylons with less control than Horatio had.
The slide of his tongue across his bottom lip and the movement of his hands along slim shoulders, trailing upwards to cradle Hornblower’s face between his hands had immediate effect, drawing a strangled moan from the habitually straight laced man.
Lee grinned at the soft sound, inwardly congratulating himself on shaking Horatio’s composure. With the satisfaction that he felt, he could almost convince himself that he had achieved his goal out of a sense of competition and nothing more. Especially not love.
There are beginning to be times that I lose myself in him, as I did with Archie. Hornblower was aware that his mind was rarely at ease, always seeking to analyse and comment and that now it was acting like the Chorus to some epic play in which he and Adama were the characters.
He intoxicates me. Lee's musky aroma assaulted Horatio's senses with scents that spoke of shipboard life; honest sweat from where Adama had been climbing the rigging, the hint of tar from overseeing the caulking of seams, delicate soap appropriated from Monsieur Silex's private supplies. The overwhelming sense of both Lee's masculinity and his competitive spirit excited Hornblower beyond all reckoning.
He recalled years ago getting lost in London and finding himself among a group of mollies who were plying their wares as brazenly as any Portsmouth Brute. Strange, epicene creatures they'd been - lost in some place between two worlds - and Horatio had found them sickening, although whether the reaction arose from their artificial femininity or because they reminded him of the illicit nature of his relations with Kennedy, he had never established. That was not what he wanted, someone who was less than a man; no-one could doubt that either Archie or Lee were whole heartedly male.
Lost between two worlds. Hornblower thought that appropriate for Adama too - a poor misplaced soul who was pulled by two lives that he valued, perhaps two people he treasured. Something called Lee home and maybe its voice was more insistent than Horatio's.
"My poor Apollo," Hornblower held Adama tight, his racing mind beginning to pour itself out, "cast out from Olympus and no chariot to carry you back there. Were I Hercules I could bear you on my shoulders, but I have neither his strength nor status." He had said more than he had wanted to; he and Lee may have been physically intimate, but they had not the emotional closeness and honesty that he and Archie had possessed. He had been able to pour himself out entirely to Kennedy and receive the same flow of candour in return - he was not ready to do that with Adama, despite the baring of his emotions that had taken place that first night.
Lee leaned into Horatio’s embrace, surprised at the depth of affection the normally staid man had revealed. It would have cost him dearly to have so emphatically affirmed his feelings, and the gesture touched Adama deeply. At a base level that had nothing to do with blatancy and everything to do with instinct, he could recognise the simple plea which lay hidden in Hornblower’s words. He was asking, begging Lee not to leave him behind. Perhaps Horatio believed that Lee belonged on Galactica ; that no matter how hard he worked at fitting in and how successful he had been, this was not the life Adama had been born live. If that was the case - and Lee hoped not as it showed a surprising amount of insight on Hornblower’s part and he wasn’t ready to deal with the implications that would result from somebody being able to read him so well - Galactica was no more important than Horatio’s home. Less so, all things considered.
The sea held Hornblower’s heart and soul; ransoming it to those who proved worthy, sacrifice its only price. Already it had claimed a life given willingly if half of what Horatio had said about Archie Kennedy was true. Or half of what he hadn’t said. They hadn’t spoken at length about Hornblower’s former lover, each recognising the others’ discomfort at the thought, but Horatio had inferred enough to make Lee believe that the man who had worn such a familiar face had paid the ultimate price in choosing to care for Hornblower. In comparison the loss of a home, as familiar as it was, meant nothing. Adama knew logically that he would never return to Galactica, and he found that his heart ached less at the separation everyday. It was almost comforting to think that in his own sacrifice he had given Horatio a degree of happiness he hadn’t experienced in a long time.
"Come on, we can't stay here forever. It's either your cabin for both of us or a return to Guichet for me. Whatever it is it needs to happen pretty damn quick before the rest of the crew get suspicious." Adama smiled tenderly, the most melting look that Horatio had ever seen on the man's face easing out the sharp corners and making him resemble Archie more closely than ever.
"And which would you prefer?" Hornblower needed Lee with him now, just like the times he had been desperate to have Kennedy by his side and they had broken and bent every rule in the book to find ten minutes to be together. He had pretended then that it was just a matter of their love expressing itself, their natural desire to cleave together finding an outlet and he could tell himself the same this time - only he knew that desire ran deeper than that. He and Adama were only human, after all and while the jack tars were paying for their pleasure ashore, Hambledon's officers felt no less need for company.
Lee pulled Horatio to his feet, propelled him to the door. "Which do I prefer? Your cot, your arms, your world - for now."
***
The sky was clear the next morning and the weather unseasonably warm; Hornblower felt confident that the bulk of the repairs could be completed this day, despite the rather sorry state of some of the crew who had obviously been bowsing up their jibs and emptying their pockets in Plymouth with too much enthusiasm. Even these specimens were set to work; had they not had their officers’ beady eyes on them, then the frowns from their mates who had yet to see liberty would have told them that any underperformance would be treated with contempt. And probably a slap from a rope's end.
The pleasant sun bore down upon the officers, both of whom strode the quarterdeck wearing matching expressions of surreptitious satisfaction. An outsider would naturally assume that their pleasure lay in the efficient work being carried out; already the ship was presenting a much more solid constitution, no mean feat considering the previous state of disrepair. Even a person of similar inclinations would be hard pressed to spot a relationship between the pair; they were friends, obviously, and already rumours were beginning to circulate as to how Hornblower and Adama had met - a drunken incident in an inn being the most popular theory but the officers were well versed in both cloak-and-dagger escapades and studious attention to their duties. Not once had either man strayed from a perfectly acceptable level of familiarity, nor had either even looked to entertain the suggestion that they could be anything less than completely devoted to the ship.
It was a farce, of course, Horatio had known from the moment he stepped aboard Guichet that morning that their calculated avoidance would look effective but feel like a perfect hell. That was the problem, not the blatant flouting of harshly enforced rules, or the dread of Warne’s mistrust hanging over Lee’s head. The problem was the awkward aftermath of the opportunities that had been seized. Neither knew how to act around the other. It had been easy with Archie; it had been widely accepted that Hornblower and Kennedy were so close that nothing they did seemed out of the ordinary. Intimacy though blatancy Archie had dubbed it once whilst in a particularly philosophical mood; Horatio wondered what new moniker could be used to describe his relationship with Adama. Intimacy through co-dependence sprung to mind although it stung to admit to a loss of independence. He didn’t need Lee, not in the sense that he couldn’t live without him, but he was beginning to realise that he wanted his lover nearby. Not that he would ever tell Adama so, not when he assumed that the man was being called home.
A movement to his left distracted Horatio. Lee had been keeping a close eye on the men up in the rigging - experienced hands who would not panic if another line were to fray and could be relied upon to notice any more problems - and was now climbing up to the fighting top. Perhaps he had seen something the crew hadn’t, or simply wanted to ensure that the lines were secure, but his sudden movement had startled Hornblower, who followed the speedy ascent with jealous eyes.
The ease at which Lee conquered the heady heights of the top was no surprise; Horatio supposed that a space pilot afraid of heights was an even more ridiculous concept than a naval officer suffering from a similar fear. Hornblower wondered idly whether Adama had noticed his reluctance to climb the rigging and whether he thought any less of him. Archie hadn’t cared, aside from the occasional joking remark and an insistence that Horatio climb up the foremast every so often so he wouldn’t lose the ability completely. Lee was different, though, in personality if not in appearance. As much as Horatio tried to differentiate between Archie and Lee - it wouldn’t do to constantly confuse his lovers - he found himself falling back into thinking that Archie had been returned to him.
The only major difference he could find, not counting Adama’s accent and hair colour both of which could be easily masked, was that unlike Archie, Lee kept his eyes open when they kissed. Not that Hornblower found fault with this, the blue eyes were nicely sharpened by passion but every kiss was a reminder of what had been lost.
The creak of ropes and the thump of boots against wood announced Lee’s return. His preoccupied look stalled Horatio’s question as to what he had found up there, instead giving the other lieutenant cause for worry and leading him to chance a brush of his fingers against Adama’s as he joined him on the poop deck.
“Lee?” Hornblower’s questioning tone conveyed all his worry as he made an effort not to drag Adama below and alternately interrogate and embrace him.
Lee blinked, his distraction disappearing in the split second between his eyes shuttering and opening again. ”It’s nothing. Just some idle speculation.”
“About what?” If the crew got wind of Warne’s displeasure over Adama’s origin, it would undoubtedly cause friction amongst the hands. Horatio prayed that it was anything else.
“Some of the men heard rumours while ashore that the peace is coming to an end.”
Hornblower started, then began to smile uncontrollably. He had known from the beginning that the brittle peace would never last, but had thought himself years away from a return to naval service. With luck he could even have his promotion conformed before the year’s end.
His joy fled at Lee’s hurt look. The outbreak of war would result in a number of repercussions, all of them grim if he was to look at them from Adama’s point of view. Not once during all of Hornblower’s worried thoughts over Lee wanting to leave had he imagined that he would be the one to break apart their relationship. If the peace did fail, he would be forced to choose between Lee and the navy. The choice should be simple but he had never considered that he would have to make such a decision. Archie had been both a part of the navy and his heart; a combination that Lee would never achieve. The question remained, which had a greater hold over him?
Rating: PG 13
Pairing: Apollo/Hornblower
Summary: The joys of being in port. Written with calavarna who has juggled writing and exams like a trooper. No claim made on or profit made from these characters.
The varying shore o' th' world 5
Warne’s words echoed through Hornblower’s mind, an uncontrollable reaction to what could prove to be a major problem. He’s hardly likely to get up and fly away. The man had to know about Lee, the captain’s choice of words was far too specific to be just a figure of speech.
The captain sighed in annoyance. “I was under the impression that you know Mr Adama quite well. You did vouch for him did you not?”
“I…y-yes sir.” Flustered, Horatio stuttered haltingly in a frantic search for words.
“Then you would undoubtedly be aware of the circumstances surrounding your friend’s arrival in Portsmouth?” A knowing look accompanied by a vaguely probing tone caused Hornblower to draw an abrupt breath.
Warne knew. There was no other explanation. The captain’s curiosity as to Horatio’s knowledge of Lee’s origin was an immediate concern in light of this revelation. Whatever Adama had told Warne; the truth, a lie, something in between, he had raised the captain’s suspicions. Warne wouldn’t have felt the need to delve so deep, otherwise.
“I believe Mr Adama relied on the generosity of a private vessel in reaching Portsmouth, sir.” His bland tone betrayed none of the unease he was feeling at the interrogation. He comforted himself with the fact that he hadn’t told a lie, simply skimmed over the truth.
Hambledon’s captain eyed the lieutenant with something akin to pity, as though he knew a profoundly significant piece of information which had been withheld from Horatio and would sting if revealed. “Well then, Mr Hornblower, I thank you for your honesty. Perhaps you would like to take your shore leave now? Plymouth holds many delights for a young man such as yourself.”
The sympathy had not left Warne’s eyes, and Horatio found himself bristling in response to the unwanted compassion. He would not accept a gift out of nothing more than a misplaced sense of charity. “Thank you sir, but I feel that I could be of more use if I were to remain aboard. With the master and Mr Adama overseeing Guichet, the crew will be lacking an authority figure. It might be best if I remained here for the time being. For the good of the ship.”
He'd said the magic words. Warne had nodded at the phrase figure of authority, agreeing with Hornblower’s seemingly selfless sentiment. “You are to be commended for your diligence. I shan’t forget your actions.” He leaned back in his chair, viewing his lieutenant with new found respect. Horatio wondered idly whether Lee would mind his usurpation of their captain’s regard. “Please signal to Mr Adama and request his presence.”
With a salute and bow of his head, Horatio left the cabin, pleased with the outcome of the exchange. For possibly the first time in his life, he had triumphed in a battle of words. He had manoeuvred his way around Warne’s challenges and emerged victorious. Such a feat was uncommon, especially when one had kept the company of Archie Kennedy.
Adama emerged from Warne's cabin pretty swiftly after he'd entered - it had been a meeting he'd been dreading but the reality turned out to be less traumatic than he'd imagined. The captain had merely ensured that his officer knew what was required, confirmed that he was not eligible for leave until it had all been undertaken and informed him that Mr Hornblower had sacrificed his own liberty to keep an eye on Hambledon. Lee suspected that there was more to Hornblower's apparent altruism than that, but held his tongue.
"Mr Adama!" Horatio's voice rang across the deck, "how's the prize doing?" It was not what he wanted to ask, of course, but none of the pertinent questions were suitable for the public nature of the encounter. He drew his friend to the weather rail.
"She's fundamentally fine, just not been looked after these last few weeks I'd say." They were at last close enough to speak with a degree of freedom. "Like me before we met." Lee smiled and the affection he felt shone through in his eyes.
Hornblower stared down at the water, took a huge breath, as if steeling himself. "How much does he know about that?"
"About us? Nothing as far as I'm concerned."
"No, I don't mean that. What does he know about you - your life?"
It was Adama's turn to sigh, a great shudder that seemed to rack him. "Everything; I had to tell him, Horatio. No other choice."
"And did he believe you?"
"No idea. He doesn't entirely trust me - I'm pretty sure about that. Still if I get this ship turned round that might change." He eyed Guichet with a degree of fondness.
"You want to stay, don't you?" It was as if Horatio realised this astounding fact for the first time; Lee had found a life he could lead - out of time and space with his own world - that would keep him motivated and content until he either found his way home or resigned himself to spending the rest of his existence here.
“I’m getting used to this life, I guess I wouldn’t mind if I had to stay. That’s not to say I wouldn’t return to Galactica if given the chance; as great as Earth is” - and by Earth he meant Horatio - “it isn’t my home. I’d like to see my friends again, maybe apologise to someone.” If he was alive.
Horatio opened his mouth to ask what Lee had done to warrant making an apology, despite the intrusiveness of the question, but paused at the look of sudden shock on Adama’s face. He had paled, going from tanned to an almost translucent white in mere seconds, and was clutching at the weather rail.
”And if it was me down there instead?”
“If it were you we’d never leave.”
A disorienting chill settled over Lee as he remembered his father’s words. If Galactica had survived the Cylon attack, and he prayed to the Gods that it had, they would be searching for him. He may have doubted Commander Adama’s sincerity at the time, but in hindsight he could tell that his father had been telling the truth. His ship could be out there, risking the lives of every single person on board, in a futile search which would result in nothing but tears. They wouldn’t find him - he doubted even Doctor Baltar could comprehend the freak accident that had thrown the CAG through time and space.
“Lee?” Horatio had brought his hand up to steady Adama when it had looked as if he was about to collapse and he was yet to lower it. Fingers hovered over Lee’s shoulder, hesitant to make contact. “What’s wrong?”
Adama managed a small smile as he shook the troubling thoughts away. “Nothing. I was just thinking about Galactica.” He recognised that thinking was all he could do - he could not replicate whatever event had propelled him and his ship across the galaxy and through the years, nor had he any means to get word to his father. Lee had heard plenty of odd sayings in his time on this planet, one of which - what cannot be cured must be endured - seemed like the apotheosis of wisdom now.
"Will you join me for some supper once you've attended to all that needs doing today?" Horatio knew that visiting from ship to ship was perfectly acceptable and that they could ensure some time alone - especially if Clarke could be one of the men given leave in the first batch.
Lee managed a small grin this time - he genuinely enjoyed his time with Horatio, as long as the man wasn't trying to best him. "I'll bring a bottle - got a few hidden from our Master and Commander." Saluting neatly, he turned and made his way back to the overseeing of removal of rust and the paying of seams.
The advance of pay that all the crew had received had allowed Hornblower to send ashore for some little morsels to eke out the plentiful but boring salt beef and duff. Good cheese and fresh bread made the meal seem like a feast and brought back memories of the breakfast they had shared back in Mrs Mason's tiny attic room, in what seemed a lifetime ago.
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather be ashore? I could keep an eye on both ships." Adama was enjoying the taste of fresh food again, savouring every little bite of the sharp cheddar.
"And what would I find to do in Plymouth that could possibly be any better than what I can find here?" Hornblower tentatively reached his hand across the table, grazed his fingers along Lee's knuckles.
Pilot reflexes allowed Adama to seize the trailing hand which lurked just within reach; a strong grip keeping the suddenly tense digits in place as they attempted to draw away. Bringing the fingers up to his lips, Lee placed a gentle kiss on each tip, moving down to the palm and back again until Horatio withdrew his hand and pulled Adama closer.
“You’ve got a point.” Lee murmured against the taller man’s neck between tracing his tongue along the curve of Hornblower’s throat and gently nipping at the smooth skin with his teeth and causing the lieutenant to gasp softly. He broke away for a moment, breathing heavily. “I don’t know whether I should feel honoured or used.”
Horatio chuckled against the lips that met his in a fierce display of excitement. “Maybe a little of both?” He drew Adama tight against him, chest to chest, as he gazed down into blue eyes which burned with an unknown fire. “Which would you prefer?”
An affectionate smile and gentle shove was Lee’s answer, preferring to take advantage of the suddenly unbalanced Hornblower in the only way he could think of. Like with their duties; he’d be damned if he let Horatio have everything his own way, even if the man did seem eminently suited to command both on the quarterdeck and in the bedroom. He was determined to wipe the teasing look off Hornblower’s face; as nice as it was to see the lieutenant in good humour, Adama had seen Cylons with less control than Horatio had.
The slide of his tongue across his bottom lip and the movement of his hands along slim shoulders, trailing upwards to cradle Hornblower’s face between his hands had immediate effect, drawing a strangled moan from the habitually straight laced man.
Lee grinned at the soft sound, inwardly congratulating himself on shaking Horatio’s composure. With the satisfaction that he felt, he could almost convince himself that he had achieved his goal out of a sense of competition and nothing more. Especially not love.
There are beginning to be times that I lose myself in him, as I did with Archie. Hornblower was aware that his mind was rarely at ease, always seeking to analyse and comment and that now it was acting like the Chorus to some epic play in which he and Adama were the characters.
He intoxicates me. Lee's musky aroma assaulted Horatio's senses with scents that spoke of shipboard life; honest sweat from where Adama had been climbing the rigging, the hint of tar from overseeing the caulking of seams, delicate soap appropriated from Monsieur Silex's private supplies. The overwhelming sense of both Lee's masculinity and his competitive spirit excited Hornblower beyond all reckoning.
He recalled years ago getting lost in London and finding himself among a group of mollies who were plying their wares as brazenly as any Portsmouth Brute. Strange, epicene creatures they'd been - lost in some place between two worlds - and Horatio had found them sickening, although whether the reaction arose from their artificial femininity or because they reminded him of the illicit nature of his relations with Kennedy, he had never established. That was not what he wanted, someone who was less than a man; no-one could doubt that either Archie or Lee were whole heartedly male.
Lost between two worlds. Hornblower thought that appropriate for Adama too - a poor misplaced soul who was pulled by two lives that he valued, perhaps two people he treasured. Something called Lee home and maybe its voice was more insistent than Horatio's.
"My poor Apollo," Hornblower held Adama tight, his racing mind beginning to pour itself out, "cast out from Olympus and no chariot to carry you back there. Were I Hercules I could bear you on my shoulders, but I have neither his strength nor status." He had said more than he had wanted to; he and Lee may have been physically intimate, but they had not the emotional closeness and honesty that he and Archie had possessed. He had been able to pour himself out entirely to Kennedy and receive the same flow of candour in return - he was not ready to do that with Adama, despite the baring of his emotions that had taken place that first night.
Lee leaned into Horatio’s embrace, surprised at the depth of affection the normally staid man had revealed. It would have cost him dearly to have so emphatically affirmed his feelings, and the gesture touched Adama deeply. At a base level that had nothing to do with blatancy and everything to do with instinct, he could recognise the simple plea which lay hidden in Hornblower’s words. He was asking, begging Lee not to leave him behind. Perhaps Horatio believed that Lee belonged on Galactica ; that no matter how hard he worked at fitting in and how successful he had been, this was not the life Adama had been born live. If that was the case - and Lee hoped not as it showed a surprising amount of insight on Hornblower’s part and he wasn’t ready to deal with the implications that would result from somebody being able to read him so well - Galactica was no more important than Horatio’s home. Less so, all things considered.
The sea held Hornblower’s heart and soul; ransoming it to those who proved worthy, sacrifice its only price. Already it had claimed a life given willingly if half of what Horatio had said about Archie Kennedy was true. Or half of what he hadn’t said. They hadn’t spoken at length about Hornblower’s former lover, each recognising the others’ discomfort at the thought, but Horatio had inferred enough to make Lee believe that the man who had worn such a familiar face had paid the ultimate price in choosing to care for Hornblower. In comparison the loss of a home, as familiar as it was, meant nothing. Adama knew logically that he would never return to Galactica, and he found that his heart ached less at the separation everyday. It was almost comforting to think that in his own sacrifice he had given Horatio a degree of happiness he hadn’t experienced in a long time.
"Come on, we can't stay here forever. It's either your cabin for both of us or a return to Guichet for me. Whatever it is it needs to happen pretty damn quick before the rest of the crew get suspicious." Adama smiled tenderly, the most melting look that Horatio had ever seen on the man's face easing out the sharp corners and making him resemble Archie more closely than ever.
"And which would you prefer?" Hornblower needed Lee with him now, just like the times he had been desperate to have Kennedy by his side and they had broken and bent every rule in the book to find ten minutes to be together. He had pretended then that it was just a matter of their love expressing itself, their natural desire to cleave together finding an outlet and he could tell himself the same this time - only he knew that desire ran deeper than that. He and Adama were only human, after all and while the jack tars were paying for their pleasure ashore, Hambledon's officers felt no less need for company.
Lee pulled Horatio to his feet, propelled him to the door. "Which do I prefer? Your cot, your arms, your world - for now."
***
The sky was clear the next morning and the weather unseasonably warm; Hornblower felt confident that the bulk of the repairs could be completed this day, despite the rather sorry state of some of the crew who had obviously been bowsing up their jibs and emptying their pockets in Plymouth with too much enthusiasm. Even these specimens were set to work; had they not had their officers’ beady eyes on them, then the frowns from their mates who had yet to see liberty would have told them that any underperformance would be treated with contempt. And probably a slap from a rope's end.
The pleasant sun bore down upon the officers, both of whom strode the quarterdeck wearing matching expressions of surreptitious satisfaction. An outsider would naturally assume that their pleasure lay in the efficient work being carried out; already the ship was presenting a much more solid constitution, no mean feat considering the previous state of disrepair. Even a person of similar inclinations would be hard pressed to spot a relationship between the pair; they were friends, obviously, and already rumours were beginning to circulate as to how Hornblower and Adama had met - a drunken incident in an inn being the most popular theory but the officers were well versed in both cloak-and-dagger escapades and studious attention to their duties. Not once had either man strayed from a perfectly acceptable level of familiarity, nor had either even looked to entertain the suggestion that they could be anything less than completely devoted to the ship.
It was a farce, of course, Horatio had known from the moment he stepped aboard Guichet that morning that their calculated avoidance would look effective but feel like a perfect hell. That was the problem, not the blatant flouting of harshly enforced rules, or the dread of Warne’s mistrust hanging over Lee’s head. The problem was the awkward aftermath of the opportunities that had been seized. Neither knew how to act around the other. It had been easy with Archie; it had been widely accepted that Hornblower and Kennedy were so close that nothing they did seemed out of the ordinary. Intimacy though blatancy Archie had dubbed it once whilst in a particularly philosophical mood; Horatio wondered what new moniker could be used to describe his relationship with Adama. Intimacy through co-dependence sprung to mind although it stung to admit to a loss of independence. He didn’t need Lee, not in the sense that he couldn’t live without him, but he was beginning to realise that he wanted his lover nearby. Not that he would ever tell Adama so, not when he assumed that the man was being called home.
A movement to his left distracted Horatio. Lee had been keeping a close eye on the men up in the rigging - experienced hands who would not panic if another line were to fray and could be relied upon to notice any more problems - and was now climbing up to the fighting top. Perhaps he had seen something the crew hadn’t, or simply wanted to ensure that the lines were secure, but his sudden movement had startled Hornblower, who followed the speedy ascent with jealous eyes.
The ease at which Lee conquered the heady heights of the top was no surprise; Horatio supposed that a space pilot afraid of heights was an even more ridiculous concept than a naval officer suffering from a similar fear. Hornblower wondered idly whether Adama had noticed his reluctance to climb the rigging and whether he thought any less of him. Archie hadn’t cared, aside from the occasional joking remark and an insistence that Horatio climb up the foremast every so often so he wouldn’t lose the ability completely. Lee was different, though, in personality if not in appearance. As much as Horatio tried to differentiate between Archie and Lee - it wouldn’t do to constantly confuse his lovers - he found himself falling back into thinking that Archie had been returned to him.
The only major difference he could find, not counting Adama’s accent and hair colour both of which could be easily masked, was that unlike Archie, Lee kept his eyes open when they kissed. Not that Hornblower found fault with this, the blue eyes were nicely sharpened by passion but every kiss was a reminder of what had been lost.
The creak of ropes and the thump of boots against wood announced Lee’s return. His preoccupied look stalled Horatio’s question as to what he had found up there, instead giving the other lieutenant cause for worry and leading him to chance a brush of his fingers against Adama’s as he joined him on the poop deck.
“Lee?” Hornblower’s questioning tone conveyed all his worry as he made an effort not to drag Adama below and alternately interrogate and embrace him.
Lee blinked, his distraction disappearing in the split second between his eyes shuttering and opening again. ”It’s nothing. Just some idle speculation.”
“About what?” If the crew got wind of Warne’s displeasure over Adama’s origin, it would undoubtedly cause friction amongst the hands. Horatio prayed that it was anything else.
“Some of the men heard rumours while ashore that the peace is coming to an end.”
Hornblower started, then began to smile uncontrollably. He had known from the beginning that the brittle peace would never last, but had thought himself years away from a return to naval service. With luck he could even have his promotion conformed before the year’s end.
His joy fled at Lee’s hurt look. The outbreak of war would result in a number of repercussions, all of them grim if he was to look at them from Adama’s point of view. Not once during all of Hornblower’s worried thoughts over Lee wanting to leave had he imagined that he would be the one to break apart their relationship. If the peace did fail, he would be forced to choose between Lee and the navy. The choice should be simple but he had never considered that he would have to make such a decision. Archie had been both a part of the navy and his heart; a combination that Lee would never achieve. The question remained, which had a greater hold over him?